Warrior of Old
by Azusasan
Summary: Saturos x Menardi. He'd once wanted to be a merchant. She'd once been adorably shy. But now, though, they're crumbling away with Weyard... Then again, there are moments of life.


**Warrior of Old  
  
**  
  
Arggggh. Needed to get back into Golden Sun. And of course, angst!  
  
-Azu  
  
Disclaimer: Nope. They don't belong to me. All belongs to Camelot, that evil, conniving, world-domination-planning company.

* * *

It was fake. All fake. Those claims to cruelty, rebellion, loving bloodshed. All fake.  
  
Saturos was sure Alex was aware of these lies. He was sure Felix and Jenna, those naive children, had no idea. He was sure even Menardi was not aware of it. She wasn't aware she was laying traps around herself; wasn't aware those traps could spring up and snap at her at the slightest misstep.  
  
She was cold, demanding, and unfair. The role model for Proxians, those brats from Vale must think. Or did they think _he_ was the example? That was beside the point. He pitied Menardi, having to set up such barriers around herself only to have them knocked down so quickly. He pitied her, sympathized with her, detested her. She wasn't aware. At all.  
  
Menardi had never been this naive before.  
  
She had still been naive _then_, but she was the Menardi of the past -- the Menardi that doted over her little sister (That loathed her, but she never noticed), had never harmed much more than a fly, the Menardi that was adorably shy. At the time the knowledge that Weyard would fall to bits if the lighthouses weren't fired came about, her personality did a full pivot. The warrior Menardi was born.  
  
And Saturos hated the warrior Menardi. Or did he love her? Emotions tossed him left and right, and he was never truly sure of his feelings for that one lone woman that was more than capable of raining apocalypse down on Weyard single-handedly. He loved the old Menardi, he loved the fake Menardi. The _counterfeit_ Menardi. But if he hated her... would it be justified? Saturos tended to be very sure of himself, but now he felt his beliefs crumbling.  
  
Just like Menardi was crumbling. She had her moments -- when she was unexplainably kind, or went (very much) out of her way to help a stranger. Those moments were fleeting and most rare, but whenever Saturos saw these little acts of generosity, he would smile discreetly. The old Menardi still lurked somewhere within the warrior Menardi, and he was glad for it. But if Menardi was intent on keeping the warrior side of her out at all times for the world to see, she was sadly mistaken. Her soul wished something, her mind something else.  
  
So they were both crumbling away, just as Weyard was. Saturos found it ironic. Here they were, out to light the beacons in order to save a dying planet, while they themselves were withering away on the inside. Once, he had told Alex this, and the Imilian water Adept gave him an almost pitying look. Saturos didn't need pity -- he needed strength.  
  
Maybe hope. Courage. Kindness. Dreams. Things the old Menardi would say. What would he have said had he still lived in the past? Probably the same. Saturos had once been an intelligent, optimistic child that wished to see the rest of the world, and perhaps have a merchanting business. He wanted to know the rest of the people, meet them, sell them good Proxian wares. That was so long ago.  
  
Then he wasn't much different from Menardi. He was still intelligent, but he was no longer very optimistic. Saturos had developed a keen, cunning edge about him, and the same people he wanted to befriend one day as a child now feared him and his ability to destroy. Some merchant he would make.  
  
Saturos looked up from his sword-shining in time to see Menardi stoop down to drape a cloak around Jenna's trembling shoulders. It was still early morning, and they would continue their travelling within the hour. Jenna sat on a rock nearby the fire he had started, and had shivered for the past ten or so minutes.  
  
He watched, from the corner of his eye, as Menardi pulled a brush through Jenna's hair and combed it 'til it seemed to shine in the first slanting rays of the sun. Then she sat down beside the other Mars Adept, and they held a quiet conversation.  
  
It was a rare moment. Saturos smiled, and resumed his shining.  
  
They'd manage, one way or another.  
  
**END**  
  
Dude. I just managed to write something in AGES for Golden Sun! Wow.  
  
I seriously considered not having the last section in there... It seemed so... _different_ from the rest of the piece. But... It was a fanfic where I poked at Saturos and Menardi's fictional pasts, so I thought an example was necessary. Was that a good idea? Yes? No? Why, if possible?  
  
If any of you get the title, I heart you.  
  
Yeah, I'm a nit-picky authoress. Hoped you enjoyed reading that, because I actually did enjoy writing it. :D 


End file.
